


If you cannot teach me to fly, teach me to leave

by bicogiu



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 17-Year-Old Harry, And Louis starts swearing like a saylor, Barebacking, Bro? Bro., Fingering, First Time, Fluff, Harry has a dirty mouth, If you cry I win, Loss of Virginity, Lots of Peter Pan references, M/M, Niall is Tinker Bell, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sexual Experimentation, So he teaches Louis swear words, The other boys are lost boys, There is a narrator in the story, Underage Sex, Which is me of course, Zouis epic bromance, and quotes, louis is peter pan, neverland au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:38:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3271994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicogiu/pseuds/bicogiu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Harry gets lost he's six and escaping through the back door of the orphanage.<br/>
The first time Harry finds himself again he's 17 and meets a boy with the most irresistible smile he's ever seen. His name is Louis and besides the promise of never feeling lonely ever again and never growing up, he has eyes that look like the sky on a clear day, when the air is as warm as his presence. At night, Louis' heavens shine bright and beautiful, second star to the right and straight on 'til morning, a naughty look on his face that promises the most beautiful adventures in Neverland.<br/>
Harry didn't really think he needed to go anywhere, for he had found the most beautiful adventure on the way Louis' laugh sounded like watching the sunset on a spring day, but much much louder and much much better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We are the reckless, we are the wild youth

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I am in no way related to One Direction or his members. This story is **not** a representation of real situations, it is a work of **fiction** and should not be taken as anything but that. Neverland does **not** belong to me, nor Peter Pan's story. Its quotes and credits are all for/from J. M. Barrie.  
>  This work was inspired by [this](https://platform.vine.co/v/OwqtP9FUibA) vine and [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iRhWidMXyPw) song  <3  
>  Thank you to my Larryzinhas and to Is, for the support and love.  
>  This is also my first work of fiction, so bare with me.

Harry was a lost boy all along. From running aways to being locked up in a room with 15 other kids for his entire life, he never truly felt like he could belong. His mother had left him on the corner between an once upon a time and an old bakery. The lady who owned the place kept him until he was 5, but then it became too difficult to feed another mouth, so she sent him to a foster home.

There, he got his first kiss - from a girl - and, once again, Harry didn't fit. He tried with a couple of boys at the age of 14, but then some _other_  boys found out: there, he got his first beating, too.

He learned how to fight, if needed, to protect his body from forming scars of the visible type, because once he heard a story about how some foster kids never got adopted because they were too marked to get away with it anywhere else. He knew how to clean the dishes, sweep the floor, keep his bed tidy and always, always, come back to his room before five in the morning, so no one important, that meaning people who could get him into trouble, saw that he was gone through the night.

Which was, actually, quite frequent.

You see, Harry was the type of quiet kid who preferred to stay in the company of his own silence and ghosts than close to other people's heartache. He would often spend the night in the corridors, the door half opened so he could easily slip inside in case someone popped up, starring at the huge window and looking at the sky when he couldn't be outside himself because of the cold weather or the constant London rain.

But today was a spring day and the sky was incredibly clear for a chilly night like this. Harry didn't care. He, in fact, couldn't care less. He was too preoccupied thinking about how special stars are, looking down for years and years, never taking fault in any sad, misguided story, but fully taking a part on inspiring the heart of lovers for so many years that it felt too close to for ever to not make it the same thing.

He could taste it in his mouth, the irony of the situation. Stars only got the best part of the credits, while his life was the complete opposite. I reckon, if I were to create a dictionary back then, the word Harry would be a perfect antonym for the word star.

Harry, then, thought about the moon, big, shiny and full of love songs. When he first started coming up at the ceiling, he often wished for a shooting star. One that would change his life and make the forgotten dimples on his cheeks appear again. When he was younger, he prayed to god to have his mum come back for him. She never came, so he lost all of his faith. Then, he waited for a shooting star, every single night, from twelve to sixteen, to make all of his dreams come true. But there was no shooting star, back then, so Harry knew there was also not a happy ending.

What Harry didn't know was that on that Friday - oh, it just had to be a Friday! - his life would properly change upside down.  
All because of a silly green hat and a silly green boy.

You see, my dear reader, Harry was a broken boy with a sweet soul, enchanted by the world in the same way it should be enchanted by him. He was charming, with a slow deep voice that never really bothered to say much, unless needed or unless he was singing. And did he sing! So, of course, it was no wonder that when he thought about all of the songs people dedicated to the moon, he started singing them. He often did it, when he was in the ceiling. It made him connect with himself and something else, even if he wasn't quite sure what it was. 

And that is why Louis came to watch him sing.  
No, that sounds a bit creepy, but it was in a very platonic and admiring way. Well, ok, at least most of it.

Louis had seen mermaids, pirates and amazing treasures. He had lived great adventures, flew to lost cities, universes and heard every type of singing there were to be heard. To him, nothing had ever came close to how beautiful it was to watch Harry sing.

He would travel all the way from Neverland every night, hoping Harry would be at the ceiling and pretend the other boy was singing to him. He almost never sang the same song twice, but when he did, Louis would murmur and accompany him on the lyrics, careful to not be discovered.

Louis was witty, amazing, clever and very very foolish. He was, also, very loud and not particularly subtle.

On that night, of course, Harry heard his whispers, and immediately stopped singing. He stood up, scared, but trying to play it cool, asking who was out there and demanding to see a face.

Louis, who was casually sitting cross-legged over the chimney, got so surprised so suddenly he almost fell. 

In the process, of course, he made a lot of noise, alerting Harry of his whereabouts.

His head snapped, eyes zooming on Louis instantly. He was spread out on the red-ish tiles, rubbing his elbow idly and hissing under his breath from the pain.

" _Oops?_ Are you ok?" Harry asked, genuinely feeling guilty for scarring the boy into a fall.

"Yeah, sure, just a bruise, I'll live. _Hiiii!_ " Louis answered, stretching the last syllable for far longer than necessary.

Harry came closer, sitting by the mysterious boy and eyeing him a bit like he was a dog with two heads.

"What were you doing up here?"

Louis straightened up, eyes shining with mischief and smirk just on the right side of teasing.

"I could ask you the exact same thing! But since you asked first, I'll answer you, of course. I was hearing you sing! I fly all the way from Neverland every night just to hear it."

Harry tilted his head to the side, much like a confused puppy, and now he was definitely eyeing Louis up like if he had two heads. The boy was wearing green pants so tight Harry didn't know how that could be comfortable, the material hugging his thighs in an obscene way that he had never seen before but couldn't help but want to admire for the rest of his life. His shirt was short sleeved, also green and matching his stupidly endearing hat. There was a red, shining feather at the top of it, which made his blue eyes and naked feet pop out. 

He wondered where a boy dressed up like this could come from, because he, himself, was only wearing trackies, a simple white t-shirt and was most definitely not barefoot.

The situation was so ridiculous Harry had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing. He honestly didn't know how to handle this sort of thing, but decided to keep the small talk going, at least.

"You did _what_ all the way from _where?_ Did you just get out of a mental institution, mate?" 

Louis threw his head back and laughed, loud, clear and whistling through the chilly wind. It was so spontaneous and unexpected it brought a smile out of Harry's face. When Louis looked back at him, he was shocked into silence for a few seconds, admiring the way his smile was slightly twisted on the left side, where a deep dimple was imprinted on his face. _You're gorgeous._ Louis didn't know he'd said it out loud until Harry answered him.

"Thanks. You sure you're not crazy, though?" Harry eyed him up suspiciously.

"I'm afraid not, young Harold."

Harry was at lost for a few seconds before correcting him.

"It's actually just Harry."

"I know that." Louis flashed him a smile so big he got crinkles by his eyes. Harry had never seen anyone so weird and lovely at the same time. "I'm Louis. _Lou-ee,_ see? Don't get that wrong, please. I actually am in a bit of a rush, now, sorry. I'll come by tomorrow though, ok, Haz?"

Harry was about to ask on the "Haz" when he heard a noise inside the foster house. When he looked back at Louis, he was no longer there. The only proof he ever was, was his silly hat, left behind with a cheeky note.

_"I think it matches your eyes. x"_

When Harry got back to bed that night, he hugged the hat tight to his chest and even though he didn't really know how to explain it, it smelled like summer. Summer and vanilla, which was a weird combination for a weird boy. Harry smiled tiredly, finding out he didn't mind it. He just hugged it tighter like his own personal puzzle.

Harry was a lost boy all along, but Louis had just found him.

 


	2. 'Cause you're a sky full of stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii, so...,,,,,,,,
> 
> SHIT WE HAD LARRY TODAY CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS FUCKING FUCK??
> 
> LIKE ACTUAL LARRY FOR 14 HOURS ON A PLANE
> 
> TOGETHER
> 
> AT THE AIRPORT
> 
> I LOVE MY LIFE SO MUCH

If anyone asked Harry Styles why he slept so tightly snuggled up with a strange boy’s hat, he would’ve said for “precaution”. Which was, of course, only half the truth. It was right know that, as a foster kid, you didn’t belong anywhere as much as anything didn’t belong to you. So, clothes, for example, were never truly theirs. If he kept the hat on his simple drawer over the wardrobe for all the boys, he would, most likely, lose it.

The other half was because it smelt a great amount like home.

\-------------------

Mealtimes were a bit like war.

Harry was never keen on bullies. Having to deal with a great amount of them through a great amount of time made him immune to them in a certain way. He could be on his own little world and they didn’t acknowledge his presence, and the same went the other way around. That was, unfortunately, not true for everybody else.

A guy named Nick was currently picking on a little girl. _She has pigtails, for fucks sake._ Her name was Lux and she was lovely. She had been transferred from another foster home Harry didn’t care to memorize. He just knew she had to get transferred so her adoption could be complete, probably some unnecessary paperwork and stupid rules.

Nick stole Lux’s breakfast. Harry despised him deeply. He was passing through his table when the urge to move his foot in from of Nick was too strong and he made the other boy face plant the floor. His actual food plus the stolen food went down with him, which was great because they had a rule that whoever wasted food didn’t get to have another portion.

Harry stood up with his untouched breakfast without sparring him another look, going straight to Lux and sitting down next to her.

“Hey, hey, there. Don’t cry.” He said softly, holding onto her little hands that were scrubbing fat tears rolling down her chubby face. She hiccupped and turned big, sad eyes to his direction. He almost cooed at her.

“Come on, do you want to sit on my lap? C’mere, love.” She agreed weakly and started climbing his long legs. When she stopped moving and got comfortable, Harry passed an arm around her to hold her and started moving her gently with his legs, hoping it would calm her.

“Do you want to eat, sweetheart? Here, I brought you something.”

When her sobbing had stopped, she ate his whole breakfast while Harry told her stupid and really bad knock-knock jokes. Lux couldn’t stop giggling, her cute little sounds increasing to happy squeals when Harry started tickling her sides. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he had smiled as much as this.

\-------------------

He went to the roof that night, waited for Louis until the rain came. He didn’t know where the ache on his chest came from, or how to make it stop. That was the very first night of his life that he wasn’t lying down on the roof looking for beautiful stars, but waiting for a beautiful boy.

Harry didn’t see Louis that night.

Neither the one after that.

Or after.

Harry gave up.

\-------------------

It was another Friday. Harry was singing to the moon, asking her things he didn’t know, but wish he did. Like why Louis didn’t come back for his hat. Or for him. He felt lost all over again.

He was sitting cross-legged, his arms supporting his weight behind his back, curls blowing softly with the wind and lips pink from his nervous habit of biting.

“Missed me?” Louis whispered by Harry’s left ear, coming up from behind him and making him jump with surprise. He didn’t know if the gooseflesh ripping all over his skin and the shudder that went through his body was his green boy’s fault or the cold’s.

Harry thought he really should stop referring at Louis as his.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Harry exclaimed, closing his eyes and trying to teach his heart how to beat at normal rate again while Louis laughed with his head thrown back. “You scarred the shit outta me, don’t do this again.”

Louis only shrugged his shoulders absently, not really caring if he gave the boy a heart attack or not. He was currently busier admiring the way the moon made his eyes look like pure emeralds. He was right all along, the hat would match his eyes.

“My hat definitely matches your eyes.” “He said pointedly. “I knew it. I am always right!”

“Yes, _uh,_ actually,sorry I don’t have it up here. I, like, brought it up here for a few nights but you didn’t come…” And Louis was already interrupting him before he could finish.

“Yes, I know. I had some problems back in Neverland. Did you know fairies can make bombs when they’re angry with you? Admittedly, Zayn had something to do with it, I’m sure. But it’s all Niall’s fault, really. He just had to go on and tell Zayn where I’ve been spending the nights… He got jealous, the bastard. _Ha!”_ Louis said happily, clapping his hands together and rubbing like he was planning some evil mastermind scheme. He looked down at Harry and saw his expression, nose scrunched up slightly and lips pouting. He looked ridiculously cute.

“You look ridiculously cute.”

Harry didn’t know what to do with that admission. He didn’t have to do anything, though, because a few seconds later Louis was kneeling down right in front of him, legs touching, and angling his body forward.

“ _Uhh_ … Have you heard of personal space, mate?” Harry said in a strangled voice. He didn’t move, though, strangely comforted by the way Louis’ breath tickled his lips. Louis came closer, nose almost touching Harry’s and inhaled deeply, breathing the other boy’s scent. He smelled intoxicatingly like Louis, himself.

“You’ve been wearing my hat.” Louis said, smug all over. His smirk was so big and pretty Harry thought his face was going to split in two.

He blushed, eyes cast down and eye lashes fanning on his cheeks.

“I have. It’s just. I thought you weren’t coming back for it so I took it for myself.” He answered, chewing on his bottom lip, embarrassed.

“You’re lying.” And then Louis wasn’t on Harry’s face anymore, but sitting cross-legged too and laughing. _Beautiful._

“Ok. This is it. I’m not gonna let you embarrass me, you fucker.” Harry said angrily, moving his arms to his front and crossing them.

“What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“What?”

“A fucker. What is it?”

Now it was Harry’s turn to stare at Louis with an amused, teasing look.

“You don’t know what a fucker is?” He asked.

“No…” Louis said, cautiously.

“It’s a swear word, _ahm,_ different meaning from fuck you and fuck. It’s like ‘bastard’.” Harry tried explaining, moving his big hands around a bit.

“Oh. And what about fuck you and fuck?” Louis looked oddly a bit too interested in learning swear words, but Harry just shrugged it off and started “teaching” him.

He always had a dirty mouth, anyways.

 

Louis was on his feet screaming at Harry.

“Shit, you fuckhead fucker I’m gonna fucking fuck you up, you get it?” He then threw himself over the other boy, making Harry fall on his back in a tangle of limbs. They were shaking with laughter, Harry clinging to him and saying “Shhh, be quiet, if anyone hears you, we are fucked.”

But crinkled eye Louis was a very nice sight.

“We my arse! You’re the only one getting fucked.” He joked, between giggles.

Harry flushed, finding it oddly endearing and arousing that Louis had not idea about the dirty things he had just said.

“Lou…” He started, but then backtracked. “Never mind.”

“No, no, what is it?” Louis looked down, arms enclosing Harry’s head to support his weight.

Harry began to talk, but then had to stop because Louis was like the fucking sun. He looked so young and soft, fringe blowing everywhere from the wind and tanned skin glowing under the moonlight.  His big blue eyes kept losing focus and falling over Harry pink lips, which quite looked like candy, Louis thought.

“What is it?” he asked, moving slightly and positioning his whole body over Harry’s, who was suddenly stricken by how much smaller the other boy was: his feet not even reaching his ankles properly.

He pushed a strand of Louis hair behind his ear, softly tucking it and trailing his finger through his jaw.

“Have you ever been kissed?” He got the courage to ask, eyes flicking between Louis lips and eyes that were shining with mischief. He wanted to lick his way into his mouth and discover the other sweet sounds this beautiful boy could make.

“What is a kiss?”

And suddenly Harry couldn’t do it. He was just a broken boy who didn’t belong and he couldn’t bare the thought of ruining his innocent green perfect miracle.

He cupped Louis’ jaw carefully, pulling him in and kissing his forehead with so much care that if the stars had mouths to speak, they would “coo” at them. His lips lingered there for several seconds, afraid that if he pulled away he would loose him again.

The other boy sighed, body going a bit limp and consequently putting more of his weight on Harry, who shuddered slightly from the feeling of being pressed up by Louis, before he was talking again and basically forcing a smile to break from Harry’s lips, breaking up the kiss in the process.

“This is nice, actually.” He said.

“Thanks, Lou.” He hoped his blush wasn’t showing, trusting Louis’ shadow being casted by his body hovering over his own to hide his secret. Harry felt a strange pull on his chest, like Louis’ little fingers and little everything were squeezing his way into his heart. He thought it couldn’t get any harder to restrain the urge to just pull him in, hold Louis and never let go, but then Louis opened his stupid, pretty, _delicious_ and sinful mouth, making everything even worse.

“I think you should kiss me all the time, Harry.”

Harry thought that too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. x


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